Drown
by Consuming Endless Nightmare
Summary: I wasn't ready to get rid of my demons. It was my only reason for existing. No one could understand. Was I truly a lost cause? Was there really no hope? Did all I have left was to drown? Drown in myself? Alone? AU, Self-harm, Spamano, YAOI.
1. Prologue

Hello again wonderful people of Fanfiction! I introduce my first Hetalia fan fiction :DD I honestly wrote this in less that half an hour. It just came to mind and I just started writing, not really thinking about plot or anything. I have so many OTP's in Hetalia it isn't even funny. I have deduced that Spamano is my favourite.

I will be honest this is based upon personal experience from myself and what I witnessed from my friends as well. This may be triggering to some people, I don't know. Read at own discretion.

I didn't really proof read so sorry for errors.

Hetalia©Hidekaz Himaruya

Enjoy~

* * *

**Prologue**

Drip.

Drop.

Drip.

Red dots splatter across the white linoleum. Running down my fingers in small rivers. Bright Cadmium Red. Flowing endlessly from deep etched cuts.

It's strange that even though my body bleeds. Shows all signs of living. I feel so dead inside. A hollow husk, a walking corpse.

I always seem to ask myself. Why am I living? For what reason was I born? I never seem to be able to answer it.

Why haven't I taken my life yet? Because, I didn't deserve the sweet bliss of death. Scum like myself need to suffer, to feel the torment of living another agonizing day.

Cutting was a way of escape. To feel numb yet so alive. Letting go of all the tension, all the mindless worries.

Gripping the razor gently in my right hand, I slowly dragged the blade across pale, scarred skin. The flesh puckered before splitting open gushing out blood. Running down my arm to join the rest on the floor.

Fuck.

I chuckled to myself. I was seriously fucked. Covering my eyes with the palm of my hand from my unwounded arm. Laughing. Laughing at the world, at myself and yet at the same time I hated myself. I hated myself for cutting. Thus I punish myself by cutting. It was an endless vicious cycle. One I wasn't willing to give up. It was routine. I didn't need reason anymore to take the blade, to paint the world red. I guess this is what some may call addiction. Some days I would merely do it from boredom. Others would nearly be the end of me.

I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream.

I tried to quit. Except letting go of a dear friend wasn't as easy as one hoped. I wasn't ready to get rid of my demons. It was my only reason for existing. No one could understand.

Was I truly a lost cause? Was there really no hope?

Did all I have left was to drown? Drown in myself?

Alone?

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(Youtube) /watch?v=bFQbuKtxfbc - _Stay and Drown by Finger Eleven_

_CEN~_


	2. Chapter 1

Hey everyone. Sorry for the chapter delay. Here's the first chapter so enjoy!

This will be my last warning. There is rape in this fiction, self-harm, bullying, violence, drugs (probably), mental illness and abuse. Please read at own discretion.

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I was walking through the gauntlet. Hungry wolves ready to pounce on helpless prey. Their eyes watching my every movement as I passed.

Outcast. I guess that's what I was. I wasn't friendly and outgoing like my idiot of a younger brother. I didn't try to impress, I spoke how I felt even if it ostracized me. Why should I lie to not only to others but myself just to get face? This place was filled with a whole bunch of fucking useless bastards anyway, why should I care?

My sight blurs for a moment. My head span as if I rode the teacups for at least ten minutes, a headache mushrooming in my skull. I felt a little nauseous.

I turned off into the restroom. The scent of bodily excrements lingered in the air. Making my way to the sink to turn on the faucet. Slipping my long slender, almost girlish, fingers under the stream of water. Feeling the cool liquid envelope them. Cupping my hands, I gathered a small amount of water into the makeshift bowl before leaning forward and splashing my face. Placing my hands on either side of the stainless steel sink, gently closing my eyes waiting for the dull throbbing to pass.

"Looking a little pale, aren't we, mon cher."

I literally felt my stomach drop. Acid crept up my throat, bitter on my tongue. My whole body tensed just to the sound of his voice. I lift up my head to glance in the mirror, my gold eyes meet with deep blue irises. Wavy blonde hair was tied back into a low ponytail. A few strands escaping and settling loosely around his pretty boy face. Francis leaned nonchalantly against one of the stalls frames, crossing his arms in front of his chest. An eyebrow raised quizzically almost as if he was mocking me.

I turned off the tap, wiping the dampness off with the back of my long sleeve. I didn't have time for this shit. Ignoring him I walked past, avoiding all eye contact hoping he would just let me on my way. God isn't that gracious though. A strong grip latched itself to my arm. Fear spiking in my veins, sharp as blades of glass. Hesitantly I turn to look back at him. His face stoic but his eyes held a subtle venomous glare.

The final warning bell sounded. Shit, I was late for last period.

I tear my arm away from his grip, "I'm late for class." Just as I reach the door, grasping onto the handle, a strong hand behind me holds it closed. His body heat could be felt through the back of my clothes.

"Where do you think you are going, Lovino?" He whispers my name into my unsuspecting ear. An unpleasant chill creeps up my spine. He pulls my collar, chocking me and throws me into the closest open stall. I land on the toilet awkwardly, the force knocking some of the air out of my lungs. Francis locks the stall door behind himself before turning to me.

The look in his eye was nothing close to comforting. I shrunk back against his gaze. Looming over me, intimidating my short stature. I tried to hide my fear but my body trembled against my will.

"You look so scared, mon cher, like a lost little kitten," He chuckled darkly. "Don't worry." He leaned down. I could feel his hot breath on my face. "I'll be good to you." The back of his hand stroked my face. Goose bumps adorned my flesh with the touch.

A sudden surge of courage came within me. I swatted his hand away. "Fuck off Francis." I pushed myself off the toilet to face him. He was roughly four inches taller then I was. I may only be 5'5" but I'm still growing dammit!

Two long, strong, fingers grip onto my jawbone causing my cheeks to form something close to a pouting face. Leaning down to look me straight in the eye.

"Is that anyway to treat your senior? You're lucky I'm in a gracious mood today. Besides," A lustful smirk spreads on his lips, "I know you love the attention." His hand runs down my side and reaches around to grope my left buttock. I tense up and my body freezes. I raise my hand to slap his face but he catches my hand before it makes full contact. Only my nails graze against his cheek successfully scratching him. Blood begins to swell at the minor wound.

"You'll pay for that." His hand tightens around my wrist. Painfully crippling it from any type of motion in his hold. A dark cast clouding his bright blue irises. My eyes widen with horror as he spins me around, bending me over the toilet. Without pause he pulls down my pants, along with my briefs and inserts a dry finger at my entrance. I grunt from the odd uncomfortable feeling. Shit, I must've pissed him off. Too soon he inserts a second. I quiver at the pain, raw and sharp. Roughly trying to stretch me out, it hurt, it hurt so fucking much. He pulls out his fingers and I hear something unbuckling. "Here's your punishment." Without missing a single beat he fully sheaths himself. I let out a strangled cry. Oh my god, fuck. FUCK FUCK FUCK! Tears sting my eyes. I try to form words, to scream at him to take it out, but my voice is lost. My insides feeling as if they are being ripped apart. "Relax, Lovino." It's not that fucking easy you asshole. I gasp for air. He starts to move.

My legs tremble with each thrust. Skin slapping against each other. I try to grip the toilet to give myself some leverage. He lets out deep husky moans. I let out grunts and gasps against my will. I bite my lip to stop the inhuman sounds to continuing escaping from my mouth, it was humiliating.

"Fuck, Lovino." Francis airily gasps, leaning forwards, his teeth finding the crock of my neck. That was going to bruise. Not much later he releases while moaning my very name. Bucking his hips forward a few more times to ride out his climax. Unwanted warmth fills my insides. Once he pulls himself out, I can feel the semen seep from my now gaping, probably bleeding hole. It felt gross. I collapse down on the toilet. All strength holding myself up was gone.

"Looks like I wasn't the only one enjoying myself." I glance a look at Francis. He nods to the toilet. I look down and see that my own semen has painted the toilet in a thick creamy white. My gut twists.

A hand cups my face and turns my head around. Lips press against my own. Francis's lips. I wanted to vomit, feeling the acid slowly creep up my throat, I really wanted to vomit.

"Thanks for the fun, Lovino." A sick smile plastered on his face. He says before dropping his hand and exiting the stall and leaving the washroom.

I sit there. Slumped against the cold, hard porcelain. Tears burn my eyes. Spilling over, streaking my face. I bite my trembling lip. Trying to hold back to wracking sobs. It was useless. I pull my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. Trying to hold myself together from falling apart into broken pieces. Hands fisting the material of my hoodie. I am so fucked up. To think I got off from that. From, rape. Rape that I let happen, again. God what is wrong with me? Sick. That's what I am, sick. A twisted fuck. I laugh. It was hysterical. I must be insane. Right? Tears still running down my cheeks as I wear a broken smile.

* * *

Dark grey clouds hang in the sky, heavy, waiting to just pour rain on my pitiful self. A gentle cool breeze rustles the leaves in the trees. I leave the school early. There was no way I was going to last period. Walking awkwardly along the sidewalk to my house. This limp was so fucking obvious, Jesus, was this my walk of shame? I rub my eyes; they were slightly swollen coloured with a blotchy red.

"Well, well, well." A deep loud voice calls out. "Look who it is."

Fuck, not today, give me a break.

I turn a little to look behind myself. It was the last person wanted to see. Sadiq. He towered over me, a freaking giant reaching 6'5". Sun kissed honey skin was defined and muscular. His angular features made him the embodiment of what every guy would die to be. He wore ripped denim jeans and a tight black t-shirt that showed how defined his muscles were. The sleeves of his sweater rolled up to his elbow. Tattoos wrapped around his forearms. Not to mention the creepy white mask that he wears to hide his eyes.

"You look like shit. What? Has the little baby been crying," he says in a patronizing baby voice. Laughing as he does so.

"Fuck you." I say with not as much vigor as I hoped.

Sadiq immediately stops laughing, "What was that little shit?" He takes an advancing step towards me.

Fuck fuck FUCK!

Grabbing onto my hoodie, pulling me up on my toes choking me slightly as he bends lower to meet my stature. His breath hot against my face, nostrils flared as a raging bull. "I dare you to say that again to my face."

I stare at his masked eyes. He was forced to wear it once he joined his weird mob cult thing. They dealed with drug hustling and importing gun artillery. He got into too many gang fights and was a threat to the school so he was expelled. Though, this is just the rumor that I heard.

"Fuck you." SHIT SHIT! Shut up Lovino, just fucking shut up!

Sadiq just smirks before raising up his fist. Clenched till the knuckles were bone white, veins popping out slightly and hitting me square on the jaw. The impact sent my head to snap backwards. I spit out bright red blood from my mouth. My left cheek and jaw throbbing in pain.

"Still got that smart mouth of yours I see." Sadiq darkly chuckles.

I look back at him, "And you're still a drug addicted criminal gang piece of shit street rat." Do you want to die Lovino? Seriously?!

Sadiq lets go of my sweater and full on punches me in the gut. I fall back, clutching my abdomen before turning to my side and finally releasing the contents of my stomach. Acid and a slimy film coat my tongue.

A bulky shoe kicks my side, over and over. "You are pathetic." Sadiq says in a quiet yet menacing tone. "You can't even fight back. Worthless piece of shit." He hisses before kicking me once more for good measure and spitting on me before leaving me in a crumpled mess.

I just lay there, hoping he'd come back and beat me some more. I hated this. I just wanted to disappear. A drop of water falls onto my cheek. A few more fall, darkening the cement below my body. Slowly and steadily the rain begins to crash down. I wait a bit before sitting up. My clothes completely drenched and clinging tightly to my body. I slowly stand up, holding my aching ribs with out arm. Stumbling along the broken concrete, ignoring everything, drowning everything out.

I don't even remember how I got to my front porch. I hesitantly grasp the doorknob and twist it open. I try to walk in as quietly as possible.

"Fratello!" A shrill voice calls the moment I close the door. Fuck. "Where have you been? Nonno and I have been worried-Fratello! What happened to your face?" A look of pure horror masks the usually bubbly auburn boys face at the very moment I look at him.

"It's nothing Feli." I say quietly but sternly. I try to walk past except Feli blocks my path.

"Fratello, this isn't nothing!" Similar golden eyes look into mine.

"Just forget about it?" I try to brush it off.

"How can I when this keeps happening? Why don't you tell Nonno or I what's going on? We can help fratello. Don't you realize we care about you?" Feli's eyes glisten with tears.

Yeah right. Nonno has never cared much for me. He only has had eyes for you. The perfect little brother. Got good grades, was kind with everyone, a great cook with Italian cuisine and an amazing artist to boot. Then there's me. The failure. I ruin everything I touch. My mouth just goes off on it's own before I can stop it. No one even puts a second glance at me. They all bow to the great Feliciano Vargas.

I open my mouth to say something but Feliciano beats me to it.

"Are you getting bullied again?"

I grit my teeth, "God, Feliciano. Just shut up! Leave me the fuck alone. It is none of your business! Why don't you just go play with your potato bastard friend? He's the only one who can put up with your constant pestering! Fuck!" I enunciate the last word before roughly pushing past him upstairs.

Feli calls after me but I ignore him completely locking myself in the bathroom. My whole body was racking with shivers. I strip off the wet clothing and throw them into the hamper. I turn on the faucet in the tub, pulling the little lever to turn on the shower. Hot water beats down, I step in and sit there in the tub not even bothering to stand. The feeling of Francis's touch still lingered on my skin. I take the loufa put a generous amount of body wash on it. Scrubbing it against my skin hoping to wash away the trace feeling of fingers touching him. Why do I feel so filthy? Dragging the rough fabric across my body. It won't fucking go away! I scrub harder and harder but his touch lingers. His disgusting hands all over my skin. Feeling me in every place possible. I stop once I see how raw my skin is I turn off the water, grabbing a clean pair of briefs that I always leave in the washroom and sit on the toilet. Not even drying off myself. I open the bathroom drawer. I open Nonnos shaving kit. Pulling out the electric razor and prying out the part that is a mould that gives everything a place. Taped to the bottom is a small but sharp razor. I could have chosen a better hiding place but I doubt that Nonno would even think of me hiding such an object in such a place.

Feliciano and Nonno don't know of this. I've kept it a secret. It's tough especially when you have a family that is very open. I started at 13. I don't know why I did anymore. Maybe it was just to feel something. To escape. That's what it was, an escape. A release from reality. I had to throw out all my t-shirts. It would reveal the scars to anyone who looked. It's a little brutal in the summer but I don't go out much anymore anyways. I even wear long sleeves in gym class. I'm too scared of anyone finding out. I didn't want to be on constant surveillance. I just wanted to fade into the backdrop.

I didn't want to do this again. Each time you do it, there is a risk. But…I need it. I need it so much.

I rip off the tape and grip the razor. I gently drag finger over the flesh of my left forearm. The pale skin was adorned with white scars. Some quite faded. Others fairly fresh and scabbing. I poise the little blade against my arm. Dragging it across with some force. I groan at the euphoric sensation. Head feeling a little light. Blood runs down my arm. Fuck I need more. I do another, and another, and another. I don't stop. Each a little deeper then the one before. I bite down on my lip. The corners of my mouth turning upwards. Watching rivers of blood paint my arm in a brilliant red. Dripping into a dark pool below. All tension slowly releasing it's suffocating grip hold on me.

I finally stop, I lost count to how many cuts I did. Blood was everywhere. Fuck.

I run my arm under some water to wash away the blood, but it wouldn't stop. It just kept flowing. Shit. I take a towel and wrap it around to staunch the bleeding. Not much later bleeding through it completely, fuck.

There's a knock on the door. "Lovino?" A deep voice asks.

I still try to stop the blood.

"Y-yeah?" I reply.

"You've been in there for a while, is everything okay?"

Shit. My head feels really light.

"I'm just not feeling very good." My vision starts to fizzle out, stars forming in front of my eyes. Fuck. Not good, not good. I start to panic. The blood isn't stopping. Why won't it stop? Oh my god. Shit! My limbs start to feel heavy and numb. Perspiration forming on my brow.

"Are you sure? Feli says you came home with some injuries. Do you want to talk about it?" Feliciano and his fucking big mouth.

"N-not…really." I struggle to say. My breathing becoming erratic. Blood was everywhere. Everything is fucking red. Am I going to die? I don't want to die. Oh my god oh my god oh my god. I try to grab onto the sink to steady myself and knock over the shaving kit with a loud crash.

"Lovino? What was that? Are you okay? Lovino?" The door knob jostles, as Nonno tries to let himself in. My legs collapse underneath myself. Shit. Shit. "Lovino? Lovino! Open this door. Fanculo. Aprite questa porta in questo istante!" Nonno starts shouting in frantic Italian. His voice sounds as if he's calling through a tunnel. Becoming more muffled and muffled with each passing second. Is this it? Is this how I die? I guess in a way it isn't so bad. It isn't painful like I thought it would be. Almost numbing actually.

The door finally bursts open.

"Gesù Cristo! Lovino! Che cosa hai fatto? Resta con me! Oh dio, Lovino, per favore non morire su di me!" Nonno frantically calls to me. But it's hardly coherent. Kneeling beside me checking my pulse. "Merda." He mutters under his breath.

"Fratello!" I hear a high pitched scream.

"Feli! Chiamare il 911 ora! Ora!" At this point I only see stars, but I can imagine Feli nodding before running off.

"Lovino. Ascoltami. Non si ha intenzione di morire. Non si ha intenzione di morire su di me…Lovino?...Lo….ino!" His voice drifts further and further away until I can't hear it anymore.

I slip back, underneath black murky water. Slowing sinking lower and lower. Drowning in the engulfing darkness. No sound. No light. No feeling. Nothing except…

Black.

* * *

A/N: This was done by google translate so I'm sure it's inaccurate but it makes the story more interesting in my opinion.

Translation:

Mon cher - My dear

Fanculo - Fuck

Aprite questa porta in questo istante! - Open the door this instant!

Gesù Cristo - Jesus Christ

Che cosa hai fatto? - What have you done?

Resta con me! - Stay with me!

Oh dio, Lovino, per favore non morire su di me! - Oh god, Lovinio, please don't die on me.

Merda - Shit

Feli! Chiamare il 911 ora! Ora! - Feli! Call 911 now! Now!

Ascoltami - Listen

Non si ha intenzione di morire - You are not going to die

Non si ha intenzione di morire su di me - You are not going to die on me


	3. Chapter 2

I'm sorry for the short chapter, but this has just been sitting for a while and I figured that you've waited long enough. So here we are, Chapter 2! I didn't really go over it so I'm sorry if it's crappy.

* * *

I slowly open my eyes. The world is blurry and unfocused. I blink in hopes of clearing my vision. I lift my hand to my face, vigorously rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I test my eyes again, shocking my eyes from the bright fluorescent light above. Using my arm to shade my eyes from the piercing brightness. I attempt to sit up but a wave of dizziness hits me causing me to lean back on my arm. Holding my head to keep it from spinning, I wait as it begins to subside. Fully sitting up, slightly hunched over from lack of energy to keep upright.

The room was bleach white. Every surface was void of colour. Posters of various Illness and body parts covered the walls. Implements of various sorts lined in an organized manner along the counter top.

I look down at myself. I was wearing one of those thin hospital gowns. The colour was a very pale baby blue. I glance to my left forearm, wrapped thickly with bandaging and gauze. Attached to my hand was a taped tube puncturing into my flesh. A bag of clear fluid flowing through the IV into my own body.

I didn't die? Broken memories start to come back. A headache starting to form as fuzzy memories start to flood back. There was so much blood. Nonno was talking to me; maybe yelling is a better description. Then everything went black.

How did I get here? Where was everyone? Why can't I remember?

My breathing starts to pick up its pace. Panic rushes through my body. Painfully residing in my stomach and chest. Hands shake against my will.

I needed to get home.

I need to get out of here.

I rip out the Iv. Blood dripped from the wound, slowly pumping out with each thud of my heart. Shifting on the thin covers, legs dangling over the edge before sliding off. Feet contact cold linoleum. Legs shaking under my weight. I grasp onto the counter using it as leverage to keep myself from falling flat on the floor. Steadily making my way to the door. Why is the door so goddamn far? Finally reaching the door, I pull the lever and struggle to open the heavy door. As I open the door I am greeted with a startled man. He was a giant; he had to be over six feet tall. Short cropped blond hair, glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, a white lab coat and a stethoscope hanging on his neck completed his appearance. His face was absolutely terrifying. Blue eyes glaring me down, eyebrows knit together. I shrunk back against his gaze.

He lowered himself to my level. My heart thudded in my chest. Oh god what was he going to do? Reaching his massive hand towards me I clamped my eyes shut. To my surprise he only lightly grasped my hand gingerly in his and lifted it up for closer inspection before speaking.

"Looks like ya used some f'rce tah rip it out," He spoke in a thick accent.

He motions to the bed I was sleeping in only minutes before.

"'Ere. Lemme wrap 'his up." Guiding me to the bed, I sit and he turns around grabbing the things he needed and a pair of latex gloves before returning and working on my hand.

I watched the doctor carefully clean the spot that previously the IV was with a swab. Intricately wrapping gauze around my hand to apply pressure and staunch the bleeding. After dressing the wound, the doctor quietly took a seat in a swivel chair. He turned to his desk grabbing a folder before flipping through some pages.

"Lovino Vargas?" He pronounced my name terribly. However, I looked it over and just nodded. "My name's Dr. Oxenstierna. Ah am curr'ntly yer family doct'r." He looks at me before he stops flipping through the pages and settles on one, pen in hand.

"Been a few years since ya last had a checkup. Ah'd like tah ask you some questions bef're ah ask yer Grandfather tah join us." I nodded again as a response.

"Are ya physically active?" You shrug.

"Sort of. Not really." He scribbles some things down on a paper.

"Have yah been on any medication?" You shake your head.

"No."

"Do yah drank any alcohol and how much?"

"None."

"Use of recreational drugs?"

"None."

"Are yah sexually active?"

You cower just a tad. Face slightly flushing before you stutter out a no.

"Any previous surgeries?"

"No."

"Okej." He continues to write some more things down before placing down his pen and turning to face me. "Ah must ask someone ya might not entirely be comfortable with." He pauses for a second before continuing, "How long has this been occurrin'?" He gestures to my arm.

My whole body freezes. I break eye contact and focus on my hands. Interlacing my fingers gently together, moving them around in a nervous manor. How was I supposed to tell him? Be clean and upfront? Should I lie? No, he's probably seen the scars, there'd be no point in lying.

I swallow past the lump in my throat. Desperately trying to calm my nerves. Without looking up, I open my mouth and take a deep breath, "For a while. A couple years probably."

My ears starting ringing. I couldn't believe it, I actually told someone. I wasn't sure whether to feel relief or be afraid that someone knew my secret. I hardly hear the next question.

"What was that?" I ask, once again making eye contact.

He repeats himself, face still stoic, "Is this tha first time ya been hospitalized fer this?"

"Yeah." I say it but it's so quiet. I feel so pathetic.

"Okej, that's all the questions ah wanted tah ask. If ya excuse me, Ah will bring in your Grandfather and we will continue our discussion." He briskly gets up and leaves without another word.

Panic quickly comes again. How was I going to face Nonno? Will he be mad? Fuck. I frantically look around the room for a way out but was stilled by the sound of the door opening. Behind the doctor was Nonno. He somehow looked old. His eyes sunken in, bruised a dark bluish colour beneath. Wrinkles more pronounced around his eyes and forehead. His mouth was set in a straight line. As our eyes made contact he rushed towards me and pulling me into a tight embrace.

"Don't…don't you ever do that to me again, Lovino. Capire?" Nonno trembled slightly as he spoke. Slowly releasing his death grip on me, he placed both hands on my shoulders and looked at me square on.

"Lovino, there are some things Dr. Oxenstierna were discussing while you were asleep. We believe it would be the best course of action for your…problem," The way he said problem was obviously referring to the cutting. I didn't want help.

He sits down in the chair beside the bed. Slightly slouched over, legs spread as he rested his elbows on his thighs, clasping his hands together. Dr. Oxenstierna continued.

"We were discussin' how it might be best to go get psychiatric help fer yah. We can't say yah 're in stable condition. Yah 're v'ry much a threat tah y'rself and that is something that can't go unnoticed. In the end yah still get to decide whether or not you want to go though. However, if you do not go we still have to send yah to a therapist daily and find you a psychiatrist."

I didn't respond. My own grandfather wanted to send me to a crazy house. Did he honestly think I was mental like other nut cases out there?

"There is a wonderful establishment just outside of the city. Many of the residents are around your age as well. You'd stay there for only a few weeks. It's called Riverview. It's a very nice and clean facility with some of the best nurses in the country. There's a huge courtyard and lots of foliage. It's a quiet and peaceful atmosphere. Ideal for rehabilitation."

Why would my own family betray me like that? What right did he have?

"Lovino. I know this must be hard to hear but I only have your best interest in mind. I want you to be well again. I want you to be in an environment where you can collect yourself and maybe heal a little. What do you say Lovino?"

I looked Nonno in the eyes one last time. They were filled with such sadness, like he failed as a guardian. It made me feel sick inside. Guilt felt heavy on my shoulders, pushing me down, crushing me with their weight. I was the one who did this to him. I did something so very selfish. I wanted to cry.

I would do it for Nonno.

"Okay."


End file.
